


Hots for the Teacher

by purplehippopotamus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, CEO Tom Riddle, Jealous Tom Riddle, M/M, Oblivious Harry Potter, Possessive Tom Riddle, Sane Tom Riddle, Teacher Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-23 09:14:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30053208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplehippopotamus/pseuds/purplehippopotamus
Summary: Preschool teacher Harry Potter receives a donation from Riddle Technologies. He will meet Tom Riddle, CEO, and Riddle may find himself smitten with Harry.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 37
Kudos: 327





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my very first fanfic, so it might not be great. I have so many tropes in my mind that I've just decided to rid myself of them one by one, and it starts with this. It will be about preschool teacher Harry- meaning he is sweet and nice but he'll still have some sass, and CEO Tom Riddle- meaning he's rich, powerful, and he'll be possessive. He might be a little mean, but I love the trope where he has a soft spot for Harry so I will probably expand on that. I am pretty young (14), so please excuse any mistakes and PLEASE leave any suggestions, reviews, or ideas. If you have a trope that you want to be added, I'll see if I can fit it in. Especially leave tips or constructive criticism. Anyway, this isn't Harrymort or Tomarrymort, since it is a non-magical AU. The entire story will mostly focus on their relationship, meaning no subplots, but there will probably be some other pairings (but they won't be the main focus at all). Also, I apologize in advance because there will likely be an unrealistic number of people with a crush on Harry, but I just love jealous Tom so much. I will try to update regularly!

Harry hummed, pinning a garland of colored, triangle flags onto the wall.

He supposed singing the _Itsy Bitsy Spider_ was preparing for the first day of preschool tomorrow but mostly, he just wanted his brain to shut up.

“Harry, you _have_ to stop.”

Harry sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yes, Hermione, I know. I’ve _been_ trying. This stupid song won’t go away! It just keeps repeating and repeating and repeating and—”

“Yes, Harry! I get it!”

Harry laughed and smoothed a piece of tape over the end of the string. The rest of the strip hung limply on the floor, coiled into a pile of paper triangles and string as he hadn’t yet taped the other end.

He could still hear the chorus going in his head, but he made a conscious effort not to make any noise. Even if it was driving him up the wall.

As he stepped off the stool— because _yes, he did have to use a stool just to reach the upper part of the wall. What about it?_ — he asked Hermione, “So, how’s Ron doing?”

Hermione paused where she was currently unpacking and flattening several colorful posters, and sighed wistfully. After Harry received no answer for several seconds, he looked up, only to see a distant, slightly dreamy look on Hermione’s face.

“Down that bad, huh?” Harry grinned, a lopsided smile on his face.

Hermione snapped back to herself, and blushed, smoothing the curled posters bashfully. “He’s great. I mean— he’s doing great.”

Hermione and Ron had met a couple of months ago over summer break, and while she had told Harry about him, he hadn’t heard much more past their initial meeting. 

He resumed his earlier task, picking up the garland and stool and carrying it across to the adjacent wall.

“I’m glad, Mione. He seems nice.”

“He is.”

They settled into a comfortable silence, nothing except the occasional rustle of papers and the humming of the radiator audible.

That was when Harry noticed something odd.

“Hey, Mione?”

She hummed absently.

“Where’d all these books come from?”

Hermione looked up, and then quirked her eyebrow. “Those? They’re part of the donation that we and a bunch of the other preschools got.”

“From whom?” Harry inquired, picking one up and flipping through it. They were brand new, hardcover, and there were at least three dozen of them. While the preschool Harry worked was by no means poor, they wouldn’t have spared the amount of money that these books must have cost on one single classroom.

“Riddle Technologies. Didn’t you get the email that Dr. Dumbledore sent?”

“Funny you mention Riddle Technologies,” Harry said. “That’s where I bought my computer from, and it crashed. Was the email sent in the past 3 days?”

Hermione nodded.

Harry put down the book.

“Yeah, well that’s why I didn’t know. My laptop's been dead for three days now, so I couldn’t check my inbox.”

“Yikes,” Hermione said, wincing. “Are you going to buy a new one?”

“I don’t know,” Harry sighed, “I was hoping to use the money I’ve been saving for a new car or phone.”

The pay for preschool teachers already wasn’t the best, and it was even less for beginners. Harry had only been working there for two years, starting fresh from college at 20. He had graduated early from both his high school and university, and since he had already known Dr. Dumbledore before— he had occasionally volunteered here at Hogwarts Preschool— he had been hired immediately. This would be his third year, and he would be getting a pay raise next year if his work was deemed satisfactory. Until then, he needed to make the most of his tight salary.

“Maybe you can talk to Dr. Dumbledore about an early raise.”

“Maybe,” Harry said. He doubted it, though, since the rules regarding pay were pretty rigid.

“Why’d they give the donation? Does the CEO have a kid that attends the district or something?” he asked.

“No,” Hermione said. She got up and ripped off pieces of tape, sticking one on the tip of each of her fingers. “I suspect that it was just a PR move. Get in the good graces of the press, boost their reputation, that kind of stuff.”

“Well, at least it benefitted us, right?”

Hermione laughed as she stuck down each corner of a poster. It had the alphabet in big, bright letters on it, and the glossy finish on it shifted as Hermione moved it around.

“Yeah. I heard Riddle is going to do readings in each preschool though.”

Harry gave a low whistle. “The CEO? Great. We have to add that to the lesson plans then, I guess. That’ll shift circle time…” Harry muttered to himself, trailing off as he thought about the schedule changes that would inevitably occur.

“Any idea how long it’ll take?” he asked suddenly.

“Shouldn’t be too long,” Hermione said. “He did donate to, like, 30 schools after all. He probably won’t have time to stay.”

“That’s good. At least it shouldn’t be too big a disruption.”

“I wouldn’t count on that…” Hermione said skeptically. “There’s going to be press and everything. They’ll probably make a big entrance as well.”

“Oh,” Harry said, scrunching his nose, “That’ll be hell trying to control the kids.”

“Harry,” Hermione chastised, “language.”

“Right, right. Sorry, still in summer mode.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, before she continued, “I do think it will create a big distraction though, no matter what.” 

“Why?” Harry asked. He was now organizing the books onto the shelf, stacking them amongst various toys and games.

“Well, obviously Riddle can’t afford to read to every classroom,” Hermione said, “but it’ll seem wrong that only _some_ kids get to listen to him read. So, we’ll likely have to gather them in the auditorium, or he’ll have to do a couple of rounds of reading but with groups larger than our typical classroom size.”

Harry thumped his head onto the shelf. “I love the kids,” he said earnestly, “but I don’t think I’m ready to do that so early in the year. When was he doing it again?”

“September… 8th,” Hermione said, squinting as she recalled the date.

“September—” Harry spluttered, his eyes widening. “That’s in a week! We’ll barely have enough time to settle in!”

Hermione shrugged. “I already came to terms with it.”

Harry sighed. “Well, on the bright side…”

Hermione waited, staring at him.

“I was hoping you would say something,” Harry grumbled.

Hermione laughed. “Harry, it’ll be fine. At least it’s soon, so we can get it over and done with quickly.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, rather reluctantly.

They fell silent once again, until, a couple of minutes later, Harry could hear Hermione humming the _Itsy Bitsy Spider_ under her breath.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Warning: really long authors note)  
> Did I kind of change my writing style? Yeah. I wanted this to be quite light-hearted, really easy to read. So, I attempted to make it funny-ish? I definitely didn’t do a great job, but again, this is my first work ever and I’m working to improve! I felt like it just dragged on and on. It just kind of felt like wading through molasses but in reading? So, I edited it to the best of my abilities and tried to make it a bit more humorous.  
> Sorry if I went overboard with some parts (like the attractiveness/voice of Riddle), and I also saw that apparently, he was slender in the books? I made him quite muscular, but that’s just the way I imagined him, sorry!  
> So, in this chapter, I basically wanted to do three things. Show Harry as a teacher (I'm not sure it turned out the way I hoped), have Harry meet Tom, and show Tom being arrogant/jealous.  
> Um… for the showing Harry as a teacher part, I did it partially from the kid’s point of view, and I don’t really love it. I was rereading it and it feels kind of ominous, but I swear it’s not! It just makes it seem like something bad is about to happen but it just came out that way accidentally.  
> Thank you so much for the kind comments last time. I don’t think you guys realized how much you helped. Like really, thank you. Also, what the heck?! I uploaded that chapter a few days ago, and so many people have viewed it?? I swear, I was honestly expecting maybe 5 people to see that, not 1000! It’s insane. I am amazed that so many people found it so fast, and you guys really made me smile.  
> So, since I feel like I didn’t make it super obvious in my work, Harry is very nice to kids and can be nice to adults, but Tom kind of just rubs him the wrong way when they meet. I made this chapter a little more tuned to Harry’s thoughts, and I did some point of view switching.  
> I’m considering dedicating a future chapter (not for a while though, since I still have to build up to it) to Severus’s thoughts about how Riddle acts around Harry. What do you think? That is if you’re still reading the author's note, haha.  
> Anyway, sorry for such a long note— if you even bothered to read it; I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t— and I hope you like the story! Please write reviews or comments, they helped so much last time and really made me ridiculously happy.

The first day of school.

It was always chaos. This year was no exception.

Harry always found watching the parents as they dropped off their kids to be an interesting pastime. Some looked relieved to finally be rid of their tiny nuisances, while others acted as if they were dropping their child straight into the depths of hell.

Harry wasn’t a bad person.

He was, however, a _very_ intimidating-looking person with all of his short stature and scrawny limbs. Don’t listen to what others might say, especially since some— he scowled at Hermione, who looked very confused as to why Harry was suddenly glaring at her— dared to compare him to a temperamental kitten.

Ridiculous.

Harry and Hermione both greeted the parents as co-teachers, and they gave them a tour of the classroom and an overview of what their classes would entail.

“We will be teaching them the alphabet, colors, numbers, all kinds of stuff. We’ll just focus on stimulating their minds, really,” Harry said to a group of timid-looking parents. 

Well. _Mostly_ timid.

“My little Angel has already learned the alphabet,” one proud father boasted, puffing out his chest like a cocky chicken.

There was always one of those parents. Every year, without fail.

Harry smiled pleasantly and addressed the little girl with strawberry blonde hair and a toothy smile standing next to her father. “Oh, have you?”

“Yes,” she said proudly, standing straight— eerily reminiscent of her father. “A, B, C, D, E, F, H, I, J, L, K, M, N, O, P—”

Harry smiled again. Kids really were adorable.

“Almost! We’ll work on getting it absolutely perfect though, Angel.”

She beamed a shy smile at him. Her father’s mustache quivered violently as his bald head glinted dangerously.

Simply terrifying.

Harry turned his attention to the whole of the group as Hermione started speaking.

“So, if you haven’t already been made aware, Tom Riddle, CEO of Riddle Technologies, will be doing reading children’s books next Monday. Parents are allowed to sit in, though there might be limited space! It will be appreciated if you could contact Dr. Dumbledore, Mr. Potter, or me, Ms. Granger, in advance if you plan to be there.”

There was a swell of murmuring within the group of parents at the news.

“Yes, it is an amazing opportunity,” Harry said. “If you have any questions, please feel free to ask anyone of us, but otherwise, let’s get started, kids!”

***

The parents trickled out, and as always, some of the kids didn’t want them to go. Several of the parents, a concerning number really, were just as distraught, if not more so, than their own kids at the very thought of leaving. There were many heartfelt, teary goodbyes before there remained only 15 kids and 2 teachers.

They sat in a circle and introduced themselves.

“Hello,” Harry said, smiling brightly. His face muscles had gotten used to holding a cheerful grin for long periods of time. “I’m Mr. Potter. Let’s go around the circle and tell each other our names.”

“I’m Jake—”

“—Sophia—”

“—Aurora—”

“—Pat! —”

Harry chuckled and held up his hands. They quietened.

“One at a time, please!”

They went around the circle— properly, this time— and Harry could already see the children befriending one another as they dissolved, allowing them to release some energy outside on the school's playground. 

There were one or two particularly shy kids who preferred to stand alone instead of interacting with the others, but Harry knew how overwhelming the new environment could be.

Crouching so that he was balanced on the balls of his feet, Harry got down on the level of a very timid boy, Amos Diggory Jr.

Amos was scared because he didn’t know anybody, but he liked Mr. Potter.

“Hey,” Mr. Potter said. His breath smelled like peppermint and coffee.

“Hi,” Amos mumbled, toeing his shoe into the ground.

Mr. Potter was squatting right next to Amos, and not in front of him. Amos liked that.

They watched the area together, taking in the scene of children playing, squealing, and running around. He could see Ms. Granger chasing after a kid who was holding a nail like a knife.

“What’s up?” Mr. Potter asked. He sounded friendly.

“I dunno.” He really didn’t. He didn’t know why he was standing in the corner while the others were having fun.

“That’s all right,” he said, shrugging his shoulder. “You don’t have to know.”

Amos tilted his head as he surveyed Mr. Potter. He smelled like clean laundry and lavender. Apples too. It was nice.

“Okay,” Amos said.

They sat in silence for a while, just watching the others play.

Too soon, Mr. Potter patted him on the back and said, “Well, Amos, I, unfortunately, have to go. But if you need me, just ask and I’ll be right there, okay?”

Amos nodded. Mr. Potter flashed him a brilliant smile, showing off straight teeth.

Mr. Potter straightened up, and Amos barely came up to his upper-thigh. He petted down his black slacks and gave Amos an affectionate pat on the head. “All right then, little man. Take it easy.”

He strode away, going towards the direction of a little girl whose hair had mulch sticking out of it.

Amos really liked Mr. Potter.

***

Quickly, all the kids quickly became infatuated with Mr. Potter. They all liked the way that his breath smelled like fresh toothpaste, and how when they hugged him, his linen shirts were always warm and smelled of his laundry detergent. They liked the easy way he talked.

They liked Ms. Granger too, but all they could tell their parents about when they got home was Mr. Potter.

 _Mr. Potter taught us red and blue and yellow, called the, um… pinary colors!_ —

— _Mr. Potter read to us_ —

— _Mr. Potter gave me a gold star_!

They all wanted to earn his attention and to see his mega-watt smile directed at them.

Mr. Potter was the best, they all agreed.

***

The week passed by fast, and the weekend soon approached. On Friday, after having a few conversations with the parents— he found he particularly enjoyed talking to Cedric, Amos’s dad— the entire staff had a meeting on the procedure for Riddle.

Apparently, Dr. Dumbledore had to wait outside until the car that carried Riddle arrived in the front of the school, around 11 am.

Silently, Harry was glad he wouldn’t have to wait outside as well. It was cold as fuck even though it was only September, and he did not envy Dr. Dumbledore waiting to be graced with the presence of Riddle like some sort of classy valet.

Dr. Dumbledore would show him to the classrooms, where he would get to meet the staff.

Harry didn’t understand why this was all necessary. And if what Hermione said was true, and Riddle did donate to many preschools, it would quickly become a very tiresome process for him.

It just so happened that that same process was also very tiresome for Harry. And disruptive.

They had decided on splitting up the school into three large groups of children. Then, the reporters would snap their pictures, Riddle would read one book, maybe two, to each group, there would be more pictures, and then he would leave.

Harry sighed. This really seemed like a lot of unneeded hassle.

No matter. He wondered if bringing his computer would be pretentious. After all, it _was_ Riddle Technologies that was visiting, and someone ought from there to know how to fix the damned thing. He’d only had it for a year and a half.

Harry resigned himself to booking an appointment with the computer repair shop.

***

The classroom door opened. 

Harry was kneeling next to a small boy named Paul, helping him with his coloring, near a Hermione dressed in a pencil skirt and blouse. He himself was wearing a pair of snug plaid trousers—he pointedly did not mention how he’d had them since he was 15, and how they still fit perfectly—and a black dress shirt. He had attempted to conquer his untamable hair that morning, but after a brief but valiant struggle, he’d given up.

He blamed his dad for his atrocious genes.

In the doorway, there were a couple of people with cameras hanging around their necks. Dr. Dumbledore stood proudly, talking animatedly, and then, Harry saw him.

Tom Riddle.

It would be a lie to say he wasn’t gorgeous.

Adorned in a fitted—and pricey-looking— black and white suit, he had to be the spitting image of classically attractive. He was the very symbol for ‘tall, dark, and handsome’. Perfect brown, nearly black, hair was coiffed, not a strand out of place. Even from across the classroom, Harry could see the way his high cheekbones shadowed a set of hollow cheeks, the hard angles of his jaw further accentuating the sharpness of his face.

He was stupidly beautiful.

Harry felt out of place in his own damn classroom.

Riddle had a bland smile pasted on his face, but his eyes were clearly bored.

“Ms. Granger,” Dr. Dumbledore said, his voice light. His blue eyes gleamed. “Mr. Potter.”

They obediently went over to where Riddle stood, having already discussed what to do.

_Shake hands, name, smile, get out._

Harry chanted it to himself like a mantra.

Hermione got there first, and she quickly shook his hand, a few cameras flashing.

“Hermione Granger,” she said.

Riddle simply nodded.

Harry felt his hackles rise. The man hadn’t even introduced himself, as if they were meant to just know who he was.

Well, they did, but that was beside the point! It’s common courtesy to introduce oneself, even if one is famous. Or visiting a place where they made a large donation and were expected. 

The point being, he should have just said _something_ besides a mere nod. It was about humility, after all.

A nagging voice whispered, _you yourself said this would be a tiresome process for him._

Harry could distantly sense that _some_ of his anger might be irrational, but he didn’t care enough to analyze why. 

Not when there was a more prominent issue right in front of him.

It really was quite impressive how much patience Harry held for kids in comparison to adults. Kids were open. Earnest. He could read them easily. But adults were so hard to understand. One would think that after spending so much time with kids, he would have a lot of patience for stupidity. That simply wasn’t true, at least for grown-ups.

Harry often felt _prickly_ around them, and since he wasn’t a cactus, he didn’t especially enjoy the feeling.

Hermione moved out of the way, and Harry stood before Tom Riddle.

It was only then that he realized just how _big_ he was. He took up almost the entire doorway, and now that he was closer, Harry could see the material of his pants straining against his powerful thighs— he pointedly ignored the large bulge between them—and the broad shoulders that were corded with muscle.

He was… otherworldly, in short.

Riddle’s eyes were brown too, but when the light hit them, they looked auburn, like drops of sap.

His features were so _chiseled_ , as if they had been carefully and meticulously crafted with the richest stone in the hands of a Greek sculptor.

They sometimes depicted kings and gods in their art, did they not?

Harry had a hard time believing that Tom wasn’t either. He wouldn’t have looked out of place lazily lounging on a luxurious chaise, adorned in folds of white silk and being hand-fed grapes still attached to a vine as people bowed at his feet, gushing over the honor of being able to fan him with palm fronds.

Harry nearly gagged at the image.

It really wasn’t right of Harry to have already built an image of Riddle when the man had yet to say a single word— but at least he could _acknowledge_ that that wasn’t right. It was something.

That still didn’t mean he would stop, however.

Tom’s eyes flicked to Harry before they did a double-take.

They sparked with something. Probably amusement at his un-kempt appearance. Harry barely managed to keep himself from patting his hair down self-consciously.

If possible, Riddle straightened even more, and Harry dutifully stuck out his hand, despite feeling an unreasonable annoyance towards Riddle for his lackluster greeting towards Hermione and his ridiculous Greek-god appearance.

Riddle’s eyebrows rose, and he let a delighted smirk spread over his face.

His hand, big and broad, smoothly engulfed Harry’s tapered fingers.

Harry overlooked the pleasing sensation of strong knuckles wrapped around his own hand. 

“And who might you be?” Riddle asked silkily, still holding Harry’s hand long after the socially acceptable time had passed.

His voice was oddly similar to velvety rose petals. Soft and low, languid and entrancing.

Even the vibrations produced by his vocal cords seemed unnecessarily lavish.

Harry barely managed not to shiver, and when he realized that he needed to stop himself from doing so in the first place, his cheeks filled up with heat.

Out of anger, of course.

Yes. Anger. 

Hmph. Stupid Riddle.

See? Anger.

His voice should have counted as its own sin, that’s what. Having a voice like _that_ should have been illegal, with it more or less being a foul crime. It was essentially non-consensual drug distribution. 

Drugging people, unintentional or not, was not okay.

Even if it was simply by speaking.

Riddle’s voice was addictive and intoxicating, and it made Harry feel out of sorts. That sounded very similar to a drug to him.

Abruptly realizing that a question had been asked, Harry unwisely opened his mouth.

“Um, Har— Harry Potter.”

Harry cursed himself for choking over his own godforsaken name like some sort of bumbling buffoon. He just felt very squeamish in front of Riddle, surprised that he had even deigned to speak to Harry. Not to mention, the man _still_ hadn’t let go of his hand. Harry experimentally tugged his limp fingers back, but Riddle’s grasp was unrelenting.

“It’s a pleasure.” His eyes roved over Harry’s body. Harry gave his hand another small jerk, uncomfortable with both his angry flush and the disgusting fluttering in his stomach. It must be nauseousness from Riddle’s demeanor. “I’m sure it is for you as well.”

And then, Riddle looked so smug, and his stupid little smirk was so arrogant, Harry spoke without thinking.

“Certainly, Mr.…Tim Riddle?” He finished the sentence as a question, his eyes wide and innocent.

That would teach him to introduce himself like a normal human being.

Harry blanched as his scrabbling mind caught up to his words.

Riddle looked taken aback before his smirk curled up even further.

“Not quite,” he purred.

Harry was frozen as he mentally throttled himself. He should really pertain from letting his mouth run amok because eventually, he was going to have to do a lot of preventable damage control. He prayed that it wouldn’t be today. 

“Oh,” he said instead, forcing a sheepish smile on his face, “my apologies.”

“No matter,” Riddle replied, finally loosening his grip on Harry’s hand. “I suppose I will just have to teach it to you properly.”

Harry tried to slide his fingers out of Riddle’s palm, but before he could, Riddle leaned down into an elegant bow and kissed the back of his hand.

Harry’s mouth fell open in an unrefined frown. He yanked his hand back, cradling it as if it had been soaked with boiling water instead of Riddle’s lips.

Perhaps that would explain why it seemed like the imprint of his mouth was branded onto his skin.

Was Riddle making fun of him? Did he know that Harry found him attractive?

Er— that is, annoying? Extremely annoying?

 _Annoyingly attractive?_ A voice whispered.

Harry made a note to possibly talk to a psychiatrist. It simply didn’t seem healthy to have obnoxious little voices floating around his head and muttering blatant lies to him.

But, he reminded himself, bringing his mind back to Riddle, people didn’t get that high up in the shark-infested waters that were the business world without being able to understand others well. Perhaps he _could_ read Harry easily.

Harry glared at him and moved to the man standing next to Riddle. He had greasy hair and slick black eyes; in his hands was a clipboard with tight, neat cursive inked into bullet points.

“Severus Snape,” the man introduced. _Finally_ , some manners.

He shook his hand as well, although Snape— thank God— let go of him almost immediately.

Harry turned towards the two guards standing behind them.

Well, solid walls of muscle would have been more accurate, but that felt dehumanizing.

What the hell did Riddle even need guards for anyway? He looked like he could defend himself perfectly well enough.

Pompous git.

 _Pompously fit git,_ said the pesty little voice again.

It was getting increasingly difficult for Harry not to strangle himself. In fact, he felt his hands twitching as they tried to creep towards his neck.

“You don’t have to worry about them,” Riddle said, an amused grin on his face. His eyes looked positively alight.

Was he _laughing_ at Harry?

“Harry Potter,” he bit out, letting his hand hang in midair between the two hulking figures. Never let it be said that Harry wasn’t petty.

One guard’s eyes darted to Riddle, before hesitantly clasping his hand.

“Vincent Crabbe,” he said. 

Harry regretted his decision instantly. His palms were sweaty, nothing like the dry and warm hands of Riddle.

The other's were no better either. Meaty fingers crushed Harry’s bony ones as he rumbled, “Gregory Goyle.”

How pleasant.

He discreetly wiped his hands on his trousers the moment they were released.

Possibly not _so_ discreetly if the shit-eating smirk Riddle had on was anything to judge by. Harry hadn’t even realized it was possible for a smirk to be so expressive. Harry had already seen far too much of that infuriating lip-tilt for one day. 

Hermione was waiting for him as he walked back. He could feel Riddle’s gaze burning into his back the entire time.

“What was that?” Hermione hissed, immediately ambushing him.

“What was what?” Harry muttered, still put out by Riddle’s entire demeanor. He wondered if it would be rude of him to grab a quick squirt of hand sanitizer. He could still feel the residue of Crabbe’s bodily fluids lingering on his hand.

“Riddle!” Hermione exclaimed incredulously. After receiving Harry’s frantic look, she quieted down, embarrassed. “Sorry. I meant, what was up with you and Riddle? Did he _kiss_ you?”

“Oh, that,” Harry said, fighting down a flush. “Um, well I kind of called him Tim”— at Hermione’s unimpressed look, he added— “but only because he was rude to you! And it was just a peck on my hand!”

Hermione barked out a laugh. “Really, Harry?” She still looked somewhat pleased that Harry had attempted to defend her honor, minor as it may have been.

“Yeah,” Harry said, feeling like he was getting a scolding from his mother. “I thought it might…take him down a notch…” He finished in a mumble, staring resolutely at the ground.

Hermione shook her head, her bushy hair making a ruffling noise as she moved. “Unbelievable.”

Harry scowled at the floor.

***

It truly was a skill how he managed to make Dr. Suess sound like a refined work of literature.

Riddle was sat in a chair, surrounded by enraptured toddlers and snapping cameras.

“—do not like green eggs and ham. I do not like them, Sam-I-Am.”

His voice really _should_ have been an arrestable offense.

Riddle smiled at the children with a practiced grin.

And his smile too.

That right there?

2 years in jail, minimum.

It wasn’t even fair. Harry could see how it didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it still looked charming, as if each tooth were personally giving him a compliment.

Harry stood in the corner, his arms crossed, and he watched his kids lean forward, enchanted. They had probably heard the story several times, but they still listened avidly.

Riddle’s voice _was_ soothing, condemnable as it was, and he found himself leaning against the wall, his eyes closed as he let the sound wash over him.

“Hey, Mr. Potter,” a cheery voice greeted.

Harry cracked open his eyes to see the grey ones of Cedric Diggory standing beside him.

He straightened, a broad grin crossing his face. Cedric was Amos’s father, and he was easily one of the friendliest people Harry had ever met.

He didn’t notice Riddle’s eyes flicking towards them, or the way his smile grew a little more strained.

“Cedric!” Harry said, his voice hushed, “I thought I already told you not to call me Mr. Potter.” He frowned playfully, pretending to scold him with his pointer finger.

“Ah, I forgot,” Cedric said, scratching the back of his neck. “Hello, _Harry.”_

“Hello, _Cedric_. Enjoying the reading?” Harry asked, looking back towards the kids.

“Yeah, it’s nice. I’m glad they’ll have some more books.”

“Me too,” Harry said, grinning as he saw Amos gazing at Riddle, practically starry-eyed.

“How’s Amos doing?”

Harry turned fully towards Cedric and beamed. “He’s doing _great!_ He made a friend already, so I think he’s getting a bit more comfortable.”

Harry had been delighted when he saw Amos playing with a girl in the jungle gym.

Amos was a good kid. He, of all people, deserved friends.

A soft smile spread on Cedric’s face. “I’m glad. He’s been a little introverted since the divorce. I was... worried about him.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Harry said, frowning. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Cedric sighed, rubbing his jaw. “It was just work differences, and we weren’t as compatible as we thought. Or hoped, maybe.” He laughed, the sound just a tad bitter. 

“I hope everything’s all right,” Harry said, patting Cedric amicably on the shoulder.

“No, it wasn’t that different for me since I barely saw Cho— my ex-wife— anyway. I just hope it didn’t affect my son too much, you know?”

“Well I see children of divorce quite often in here, and I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“Thanks,” Cedric said, one corner of his mouth ticked upwards.

“No problem. And besides,” Harry added, winking heartily at Cedric, “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about finding someone new when you’re ready. You’re a handsome bloke, I’m sure somebody would just gobble you right up!”

He finished with a grand bop on his nose, smiling as Cedric snorted, pushing Harry’s hand away. 

Harry was glad to see Cedric’s full smile. Cedric was one of the few parents who he actually enjoyed talking to— and Amos was already one of his favorites— so seeing him upset was disconcerting with how happy he almost always was.

Suddenly, there was a round of applause, and Harry realized that Riddle must have finished reading. He quickly began to clap too, rolling his eyes as Cedric snickered at his late reaction, despite having been late himself.

Hypocrite. 

There was a flashing of cameras— the reporters practically bent in half trying to get the best angle of Riddle and the kids— and Harry quickly began to gather up his class along with Hermione, as the other teachers, Luna and Neville, started herding theirs together.

He, again, ignored the passing question of whether Riddle even had a best angle. They all seemed pretty good to him.

All this ignoring was getting exhausting, but he forged onwards.

“Bravo!” Harry exclaimed, clapping excitedly as he approached the circle. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

A chorus of enthusiastic yes’s followed, the children babbling eagerly.

“Well, let’s say thank you to Mr. Riddle!”

“Thank you, Mr. Riddle!” came the voices of about 30 children, distorted and out of synch.

Riddle stood from the chair he had occupied and nodded to the class.

_Again with this man and his fucking silence._

It really was quite impressive how much Harry’s subconscious cursed in comparison to his actual speech.

He quickly forgot about his— fairly remarkable, if he said so himself— filter as one keen girl ran forward and hugged Riddle’s leg, barely as tall as his knee.

“Thank you, Mr. Riddle!” The r’s were slurred, and Harry couldn’t help but smile at her.

Then, he remembered what said child was currently latching onto for dear life.

Riddle was stiff as he stared down at the top of the girl’s head. His leg was slightly set apart from the rest of his body as if he were trying to inch her away from him.

She burrowed her face into the firm muscle of his thigh.

Harry did _not_ feel jealous. He did not.

“I wanmba vee juvs ikhe yue,” she said muffled into his leg.

Riddle’s face twitched, as if he were trying not to sneer.

He probably was, the stone-hearted, evil bastard. 

Harry crouched down by the girl, and sternly said, “Sophia.”

She peeked out at him with one eye, the other covered by the expensive-looking material of Riddle’s slacks.

“What did we say about personal space?” Harry asked.

Sophia slowly released the leg, looking ashamed. “We have to ask others before we hug them.”

“That’s right!” Harry said, patting her back. “Go ahead and line up with Ms. Granger and the others. Make sure you ask next time, okay?”

As he watched Sophia nod vigorously and leave, he said softly, “Sorry about that. Some of them like physical affection but don’t when it’s okay.”

“I assure you, I am perfectly fine with physicality,” a silky voice said from above. “You would _never_ have to ask for permission, Harry.”

Harry looked up, startled, and it was then that he realized that he was still crouching at knee-level while Riddle stood as tall as ever. He was essentially talking into his crotch.

And he was also talking to Riddle.

Harry had forgotten about that fact in the face of correcting his kids.

He swiftly got up, and said, tonelessly, “I’m sure. Thank you for the reading. Have a nice day.”

Harry smiled blandly. Something about the way that Riddle was looking at him made him feel like fidgeting. He refused to, so he turned around and walked away.

Well, he tried to.

Before he could, he felt a hand latch onto his wrist, below where his sleeves were cuffed. The metal of Riddle’s silver rings dug into his flesh.

He curbed the exasperated groan that threatened escape from his throat.

“Have a nice day, Mr. Potter.”

Harry’s brows furrowed before he realized that Riddle was once again holding onto his arm for longer than what Harry considered normal.

“Personal space,” he deadpanned, looking pointedly at his wrist. “We just discussed it, did we not?”

Riddle watched Harry for a few seconds, his eyes far too piercing, before he released his hand.

Harry felt like holes had been drilled into him with the sheer intensity of his gaze.

“Of course,” Riddle murmured, sounding rebuked but not looking the part. That infuriating curl was still present on his lips.

Harry shook his head. He didn’t have time for weird, rich-person behavior— or more specifically, weird, Riddle behavior.

But before he could fully make his escape, he stopped to bid Cedric farewell.

“—you can just take Amos on an early dismissal now if you wanted, so you wouldn’t have to come back so soon. School ends in two hours anyway,” Harry said.

“And miss the chance to see you again?” Cedric scoffed. “No way.”

Harry rolled his eyes, an involuntary smile creeping across his face. “All right, if you say so. See you soon, then.”

Cedric stopped Harry. “Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to grab a coffee later today?”

“Oh, sure!”

Harry had been looking to socialize more often anyway. The first days of school and watching the kids mingle like little waddling penguins always made him long for his own experience. He wanted his social-penguin-time too.

He paused. He felt like he was forgetting something—

Harry sighed. “Hold on, I can’t. I have to go to the repair shop today. My computer broke and I’m going to see if I can get it fixed before I buy a new one.”

“Oh,” Cedric said. “I’ll be pretty busy for the next few days, so I can’t do this week then.” He sounded disappointed.

Harry wasn’t sure why, though. Surely he had closer friends to get coffee with than a random teacher. 

“It’s all right,” Harry said merrily. “Maybe next week.”

They waved goodbye, and Harry walked down the path to his classroom.

He once again did not notice the murderous glare Tom was boring into Cedric.

***

Since Harry and Hermione’s class had been the first to be read to, Riddle stayed for two more groups after that.

During the lunch break, Harry could see Riddle sauntering around the hallways, his entourage trailing after him, through the small window that was on the door of every classroom.

Riddle subtly glanced at each door.

Suspicious. Was he just creeping around the school?

His eyes locked onto Harry’s through the glass. He stopped and began walking towards the door.

Harry froze before he tried to convey what was happening to Hermione with his eyes alone. Judging by the confused and slightly concerned expression on her face, he had failed.

There came a knock on the door, and Harry frantically gestured at Hermione— and nearly knocked over a kid like an unsteady bowling pin in the process— in a last-ditch attempt to be saved.

No such luck.

He reluctantly went to open it.

There, in all his glory, stood the figure of Tom Riddle, framed in the doorway, towering and imposing.

“Hello,” Harry said stiffly, trying not to snap at Riddle for disrupting his class further. “Was there something you needed?”

Riddle smirked— _smirked,_ the bastard— and said, quite simply, “No.” He was so casual and confident about it that Harry almost took it as a legitimate answer. 

Harry paused, his eyes darting to Hermione, and said, smartly, “Er.”

Riddle continued to stand there, doing nothing except staring at Harry.

He felt heat creep up his neck.

He swore that the man had lasers embedded into his pupils. That was the only explanation for why the room had suddenly warmed ten degrees. Maybe the thermostat was acting up again.

Harry found himself leaning back subconsciously.

“Okay…then…” he said slowly.

Hermione stepped in, and Harry all but sagged back in relief.

Thank goodness for Hermione, his lord and savior. 

“Hi,” she said pleasantly, using her ‘dealing with stubborn parents’ smile. “How can we be of assistance?”

“Ah, yes,” Riddle said leisurely, “I was just hoping to see how the children were enjoying their books.” It sounded like Riddle had made the excuse on the spot. He probably had, the berk.

“Very much,” Hermione crooned. “Thank you so much again, Mr. Riddle.”

“Well,” he said, _finally_ ripping his scorching gaze off of Harry and looking at Hermione, “if you find that you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask me.”

He put his eyes on Harry again, like two spotlights dissolving him right then and there, melting him until all that remained were his very bones.

“ _Anything_ you may desire.”

Harry shivered and immediately regretted it when he saw Riddle smirk, his eyes darkening. There was nothing except silence, for even the kids eating their lunches had quieted down.

“Crabbe!” Riddle snapped suddenly.

Harry and Hermione jumped.

“Let’s go. Lunch is nearly over.”

Crabbe obediently followed Riddle as stepped back from the door and walked down the hallway.

Hermione and Harry both looked at each other, and Harry raised his eyebrows. Hermione simply shook her head, just as confused.

“What a prick,” he muttered.

“ _Harry,”_ Hermione said shrilly, checking to make sure none of the toddlers heard.

“He just interrupts our classroom for no reason—”

“Well… I think he had _a_ reason,” Hermione interrupted conspiratorially, her face a very suspicious mix of thoughtful and just a tad delighted.

“And what would that be?” Harry asked after no there was no forthcoming explanation.

Why was she talking like that? He felt like he was missing something.

“Never mind that,” she said, bustling away and going to the kids, “We have a class to teach.”

“You just evaded my question,” he grumbled.

Hermione didn’t bother answering.

***

The parents came, picking up their kids, and Harry waved to Cedric as he led Amos out by hand.

The kids ebbed out slowly, their excited chattering about the day making the classroom alight with the loud buzz of voices. By the time the classroom was evacuated, save Harry and Hermione, it was already 30 minutes after the day had ended.

It was a good thing it was empty.

“This _stupid_ laptop!” Harry seethed, slamming the top down.

“What happened?” Hermione asked, glancing at him.

“It won’t even turn on! It would give me a starting screen before, but now it won’t fucking even do that!”

Hermione winced in sympathy. Harry only cursed aloud if he was very agitated or overwhelmed.

Harry picked up the laptop and lifted it over his head.

He was going to smash it over the table. Stupid Riddle and his stupid company with its faulty products and stupid lips—

Chips. Stupid chips. Computer chips. Stupid, stupid computer chips.

Harry forced himself to take a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Hermione parroted.

“Okay. I am going to go to the repair shop. I will see if they can fix the laptop. If they can’t, then that’s that. If they can, then whoop-de-doo. I only have to pay for something that shouldn’t have needed to be fixed in the first place.

Hermione put her hand over his. “Good luck. Hopefully, it’ll be an easy repair.”

“Yeah,” he agreed sullenly.

He packed up his stuff, putting a few papers into a brown messenger bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He gathered his laptop in his arms, holding it against his body.

He opened the door, walking out as he turned, and called to Hermione, “I’ll see you tomo— oomph!”

He crashed into a solid wall. A warm wall. Inside the door’s threshold.

Oh.

It was a body.

Looking up, he saw the face of Tom Riddle.

Whose hand was on the small of Harry’s back, preventing him from falling.

He nearly socked him right there.

Again with this bullshit? What the hell was with this guy and his newfound obsession with bothering Harry at every corner? Harry pressed his hand more firmly against his laptop, lest it found its way to a pair of scissors.

He was thankful that this was a preschool, so there were only dull safety ones. He didn’t need a lawsuit for stabbing a CEO in the shoulder. 

_And you wouldn’t want to disfigure him either. Don’t lie to yourself._

“Personal space,” Harry bit out instead, stepping out of Riddle’s hold and overlooking that voice—again. What was the psychiatrist’s number? He seriously needed to get this nasty little bugger checked out.

Riddle’s arm was still curled but now around a Harry-sized gap, and he flexed his fingers as if he were trying to grasp the air before he let it fall to his side. His shiny watch peeked out from the edge of his blazer sleeve. 

“What are you doing? Why are you just lurking in the corridors?” Harry asked, narrowing his eyes distrustfully. He restrained himself from saying 'again'. Or outright calling him a creep. Or cursing him into hell. There certainly was a lot of restraining today on Harry’s part.

“I have an all-visitors pass. Meaning, I can be here for as long as I want, whenever I want,” Riddle said evenly, flashing a laminated card.

Harry sighed. He didn’t bother asking _how_ Riddle had gotten one, or why he even would want one in the first place.

“Well if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be,” Harry said, attempting to step past him. He hated how he had to wait for Riddle to move like a fucking dog before he could get out of his own classroom.

Riddle merely glanced down, and one of his eyebrows arched as he took in the sight of Harry clutching his laptop. A flash of recognition went through his eyes as he saw his own snake-skull logo.

Good. Let him know his laptop was a piece of garbage.

Oh. Wait.

He didn’t know it was broken.

Damn.

“Very well,” Riddle said, moving aside at last.

“Goodbye,” Harry said, smiling sharply. He didn’t bother waiting for a response from Riddle.

***

When he got back from the repair shop, he was told his C-drive was corrupted, and that trying to fix his laptop would cost almost 145 pounds while having a 90% chance of breaking completely and losing all the files. Harry didn't have that much money to spare, and especially not that much on something with such a high-risk.

*** 

But when Harry walked into his classroom early the next day, he saw a pristine package of the newest laptop in the TechWiz line, courtesy of Riddle Technologies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was the chapter. Not going to lie, there are quite a few cliches in there. But, they are overused for a reason, so I mean…  
> I thought it’d be kind of ironic if Harry was a preschool teacher but still cursed a lot. Like a lot. Let me know if you want me to tone it back a bit.  
> Also, is it difficult to read with Harry’s thoughts in between the dialogue? Because I feel like you might lose track of the conversation a bit. Should I take some of them out? Is it even entertaining?  
> Also, sorry for a bit of the Hermione slander at the beginning, and for the divorced and friend-zoned Cedric! I felt bad about it as soon as I finished.  
> The computer part is actually a completely true story. My old laptop had that issue, and we went to 3 shops to try to fix it. It was actually a 99% chance of the screen breaking (I don't know why, but they had to take the computer apart or something?) and 90% of losing the files, but I simplified it in the story. Anyway, once they took a closer look, every one of them said, "Sorry, we can't do anything." And then my mom did 2 hours of research and she solved the entire thing with one command key.  
> Random question: how often is a good updating schedule? Because my school quarter is closing soon, and they’re piling on a bunch of work, so I’m afraid I might not have time to update for a while before spring break, which not for about a week and a half. Please let me know what you think, and I will work to the best of my abilities. Should I try to post every week? Every 2 weeks? Every couple of days? I have no idea. Also, another question: do you guys prefer longer chapters (like this length), but less often, or short chapters (possibly shorter than the first, around 1,000-ish words) and posted more frequently? Or should I continue to write in this bulk, but split it into multiple chapters? Sorry for asking you guys so much, but again, anything you guys tell me would be super helpful.  
> Please leave any reviews, tips, or comments! I really appreciated them last time.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, the first chapter was so short! Again, if you have any suggestions/ideas/tips, let me know! Tom Riddle will probably be in the next chapter, and I will try my best to update as soon as possible. Also, there is a VERY good chance that this fic will not be T-rated. I don't know because I'm not the best at writing explicit scenes, but I find that it adds spice so...


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